Dancing in the Rain
by AngelWildWings181
Summary: What happens when you lose everything? Do you enjoy the storm and bask in the rain, or let it consume you? After all, rain is the symbol of new beginnings. RW/HG and DM/HG


**Disclaimer: I wish that the Harry Potter series was mine… However, since I'm not J.K. Rowling, it's not. Oh well… **

Hermione had always loved the rain. She listened to the soft _pitter-pattering_, reclining further into her blanket. The wicker chair felt cold against her skin from the slightly chilly air; a stark contrast with her body heat. She breathed in the scent of her herbal tea, her senses honing in on the seemingly distant sound of children laughing.

Hermione closed her eyes, reflecting on the subject. The rain was bitter-sweet in a way. It was the symbol of a new beginning, the washing away of sins and harsh feelings. For her, the weather brought back memories of a certain redhead. She soon found herself swept up into the memories, sad and beautiful all at once.

"_You know, I've always loved the rain," he had murmured into her skin. They were together under a rotunda in a park as the storm raged around them. Hermione had pulled the soaking woolen blanket tighter around them, smiling at his hair dripping water down his cheeks. _

"_Why is that?" she had questioned softly. He had smiled, rubbing her cheek with his thumb absent-mindedly._

"_It washes away the old, and brings in the new: a new adventure. Not only that, but sometimes you need a storm to realize how safe you really are. The feeling of having a harbor in the storm is indescribable. Speaking of a new adventure…" he trailed off, fishing through is pocket for something. She waited curiously, and stifled a gasp as he pulled out a small velvet box._

"_Hermione Jean Granger, will you do the honor of becoming my wife… so we can laugh together, cry together, and screw up life together? I'd like to start a new journey with you," he was nervous, she could tell. Hermione smiled softly._

"_Yes, of course Ronald Bilius Weasley, I will." Ron smiled beautifully from this, pulling their lips together._

Hermione's face was tracked with tears of bittersweet happiness. He wasn't always so romantic, but he had learned. Ron had definitely come a long way from the emotional range of a teaspoon.

After he had proposed everything had been great, preparations for the wedding were underway, and all too soon the wedding was upon them. She remembered the day quite clearly. Really, she should have seen it coming, because everything was too perfect.

_Hermione Granger-soon to be Weasley- stood before the wooden doors in the church nervously smoothing her white dress. She was giddy with happiness, and her stomach swirled with butterflies. _

"_Hermione!" a voice called from inside the doors. The doors swung open, and Harry Potter stood in the doorway, clutching a silver phone with white knuckles. Hermione turned to him questioningly, waiting for an explanation. _

"_It's Ron…" he had said. That was all it took. The wedding party flew into chaos, and she found herself running outside, toward the street, intent to get to her beloved. She apparated blindly, chanting St. Mungo's all the way. _

_When Hermione arrived in the emergency room, she was engulfed in confusion. A trainee escorted the wild woman to her fiancé, and Hermione nearly collapsed. There was so much blood spilling onto the crisp white sheets, everything was stained with it. Nurses moved frantically about the bed, trying to stem the flow, but there was nothing to be done._

_Her eyes were immediately drawn to multiple holes in his chest, and the missing leg. She blanched, running to his side, sobbing. "Ron, oh Ron, what happened to you?" She didn't notice as the white of her dress was quickly turning red with blood. _

"_Herm, calm down, I need you to hear this," Ron choked out between labored breaths. She composed herself a little better._

"_I'm going to die, Hermione." He shushed her protests continuing, "I love you, and I know you love me, but when I'm gone… when I'm gone, I need you to move on. You have so much potential to be happy; just not with me." Ron stroked her cheek gently, and smoothed away her tears._

"_No. I'll always love you," Hermione said determinedly. _

"_Of course you will, but you'll love someone else more. Be happy Hermione, for me." Energy spent, Ronal Bilius Weasley took his last breath in the world, and became enveloped in Death's arms._

As she remembered, a sad smile came to her lips. He had been killed in the most horrid way by Voldemort sympathizers. However, his last prediction had turned out to be true.

_The funeral was so much worse. Dressed in black, she watched as her beloved was laid to rest in the unforgiving dirt. Silent sobs racked her body as she lovingly set a pure white rose onto the black exterior of the coffin._

_Of course it would be raining. How ironic it was that their journey had begun and ended with rain._

_Later, when everyone had left, Hermione remained. She leaned her forehead onto the cold metal and plastic of the coffin; tears marring her makeup. She kneeled next to Ron's permanent bed for hours. When someone kneeled beside her and brought her into their embrace, she did not protest. After all, rain is the symbol of new beginnings._

Finally when the memories relinquished their hold on her, Hermione opened her eyes and dried her tears. She reached out and grasped the hand of the man sitting beside her. His other hand cupped her cheek.

"Are they over, love?" he asked in his deep baritone voice. She looked into his grey eyes and smiled.

"Yes," and that's all it took.

Another voice soon became present. "Mum, why is the sky crying?" Hermione looked down at her four-year-old daughter lovingly, pulling her into her lap as the man beside her slung his arm around her shoulders.

"It's not exactly crying, Willow, it's starting the cycle over, renewing everything: a new journey." Willow's grey eyes looked into her mother's brown ones, and solemnly nodded as if the statement was very serious. Hermione laughed.

"Why don't you go play with your brother and sister?" The little girl with grey eyes and white-blonde hair leapt up and ran back into the ice-cold rain to the older boy with brown curly hair and grey eyes, and the girl with curly blonde hair and brown eyes.

"You know, I think you're right about the rebirth thing," the man with blonde locks whispered into her ear softly. She smiled.

"Of course, I am." And with that, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy ran into the rain to play with their children, starting the cycle once again. After all, rain is the symbol of a new beginning.


End file.
